Beautiful Love
by Miss Avery
Summary: Harry is afraid Ron is too scared of the trip they will take to find the horcruxes. Ron loves Harry, but feels that he is taking away his future. HPRW slash. Takes place right after the 6th book. Mostly fluff, more Mature later on. First Fan Fic. Please R
1. Chapter 1

It was never right for him, this life. Ron stared aimlessly out the window, thinking of the world that awaited him downstairs. Yes, Harry and Hermione were here, and everything was quite all right for the time it seemed. The house was basking in the happiness of Fleur and Bill's wedding, and yet he felt quite empty. The wedding was tomorrow, and afterwards he was to embark on a journey with Hermione, and Harry. He had made the ultimate sacrifice for Harry, had given up all his plans for the future in order to help him. But he felt as if this journey could only end in pain. He felt it within him, the sensation that everything he wanted in his life was merely being taken by the boy he thought to be his best friend. As if on cue, Harry entered the room, gazing at Ron sitting by the window, Harry had not ever seen Ron look so beautiful, nor so sad.

"Love is meant to brighten a place," Harry said, taking a seat near Ron, "so why do you look so unhappy?"

Ron could not bear to look over at him, why should he have to stare into the eyes of such a boy, one whom he loved and hated with all his heart. "I am worried," he replied, sighing at the sky.

"Well, you should be, I suppose."

These words did not comfort Ron in any way, which was usually Harry's way of replying to such statements as the one Ron had just made. Ron laughed at the tactlessness of the remark, a trait that merely seemed redeeming on his friend. Harry put his hand on the side of Ron's neck, stroking his hair in a way. Ron turned from him, recoiling at the teasing touch. Harry took it as rejection of his friendly affections, and blushed, standing.

"There is food downstairs, some leftovers from what they are not using for the wedding tomorrow," he coughed. "I could bring you up some." Ron could not help but smiling a sad smile.

"Thank you, I would like to eat later." Harry smiled warmly and left Ron to think; lost in the ocean that was his brain, full of worries about everything he could possibly think of.

Later that night, after Ron had eaten and had fallen asleep, he awoke once more to the stroking of his hair. He did not sit up, assuming it was Harry, though wondering what he could possibly be doing. Harry looked into his eyes sadly.

"Why is it you reject my friendship?" he asked, lying down next to Ron. Ron sighed and turned away.

"It is not that I reject your friendship, it is that I cannot accept it."

Harry smiled, "And why is it you cannot?"

"You don't need to understand," Ron said impatiently, for he had been this close to the topic before, and knew that it would never get anywhere, not with Harry acting as naively as he always did.

"Is it because of the journey?" Harry asked.

Ron wished he could say yes, but he knew in his heart that that was not really the truth. "No."

Harry sighed. "Then why?"

Ron gave in; he was so sick of everything now, sick of waiting for right moments, or for everything to pass. Sick of trying to convince himself that one day Harry would see, that one day everything with Lord Voldemort that had been plaguing them ever since they met would just wash away, and he would be able to have one moment where everything was ok. He was simply sick of everything.

"Because I love you." He had not meant to say it, had meant to turn away onto his other side and ignore Harry's questions once again, but he had snapped. Harry looked down at him.

"What do you mean?"

Ron sighed and sat up, as did Harry. "I mean that I love you, as more than a friend, as everything, and your friendship is torture. But I don't want our friendship to ever really end, as awful as it has become, because I love you and don't want to ever be away from you." Harry leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips, making Ron's whole body ache for the things in life he knew he could never have.

"Do not ever kiss me like that again," Ron said, feeling every word costing him everything that he held dear. Harry kissed him again, this time more deeply.

Harry laughed, "I will kiss you when I want."

When Ron woke the next day, it was to his mother screaming that the wedding was to start soon. He dressed quickly, not thinking of the terribly tempting dream he had had last night. He looked at his dress robes in the mirror, loving that they were so much nicer than the ones he had had during his fourth year. He thought of how Hermione had thought he liked her then, but he had only been tortured by the thought of their group being split in any way by love, by anyone. Victor had been threatening the life that he had become so accustomed to, one in which only he, Harry, and Hermione existed, one in which he could be with Harry all the time, and think no worse of himself for it.

When the wedding finally started, he was very much pleased that he was sitting up near the front, where as Harry was nearer the back, his love for Harry had grown to such a point where it was hard for him to look Harry in the eyes.

The wedding started. Music flowed from somewhere off in the distance, a cool effect he must say, and Fleur came down the isle, in a long white dress, that was sleeves and had about a thousand laces going up the back. She had a golden tiara placed upon her beautiful head, which went wonderfully with her hair. Ron was again reminded of a time when he was suspected of wanting a girl, but with Fleur, it had been a feeling even worse than the one that he had had with Hermione. When it was Hermione, he was only fearful that his world might change, but with Fleur, he had been forced to take a good look at himself. Fleur was beautiful, anyone could tell you that, and yet Ron felt nothing for her. And seeing her with Bill, him ogling at her day in and day out, he wondered why he could not simply want a girl like Fleur, wondered why his life had to be complicated like it was. He watched her walk down the isle, hating himself, for he could only appreciate her beauty in an aesthetic way, as some form of artwork, free of desires of the flesh. He looked away, to his sister Ginny walking flowingly behind her, her long read hair catching the sun as it flew behind her. He was saddened whenever he looked at Ginny, saddened at the thought of her love for Harry, at his assumed love for her. And yet, Ron could not help but think that Harry did not love her, for he had told Ron he did not, though it may have been a lie. But somehow, he had his doubts, urged by the unceremonious breakup at the end of last term. Though Harry said it was because he loved her and did not want her hurt, he somehow thought it strange that he would then leave himself and Hermione to die along with him. Although, they may have just shown that Harry love Ginny more than he could ever love Ron, and all Ron's hopes were once again dashed.


	2. Chapter 2

After the ceremony, they all went inside to eat, while Mr. Weasley and Charley set up the makeshift dance floor outside. Harry sat inside, watching everybody laugh and eat. He couldn't stop thinking about Ron. He was acting like nothing had happened last night. Harry couldn't believe things were turning out like they were. He had known that he loved Ron for a year now, but the thought of them together had never even crossed his mind. Ok so maybe it had, but it was never really a possibility for him. For the first time in months now, Harry felt a stab of guilt about Fred and George. He would have never touched either of them had he known he could have the same thing with Ron, even better really. But he didn't like thinking about that, or what Ron would think if he found out what Harry had done with Fred, George, or both of them. He shivered, thinking of the time last week. He couldn't believe he had done those things. He thought about what George had said, about it all being "just fun". But lately he had been thinking that maybe he wanted more than that. Feeling like he did last night, as he looked into those eyes that loved him, he was sure he wanted more. But he was slightly regretting not having done more with Ron than just kiss, by the way Ron was acting about the whole thing he had a feeling last night may have been his only chance.

Mr. Weasly walked in with Charley, smiling. "It's all ready to go!" they all walked outside to the dance floor that they had created in the yard. They played some cheesy music and Bill and Fleur started the dancing. Harry had the overwhelming urge to go over and ask Ron to dance with him, but he knew better. Instead, he approached Ginny, and led her out to the edge of the dance floor. He spun her around, so that he could gaze at Ron across the room over her shoulder. But the longer he looked into the eyes of Ron, the more he wished that everything was different, which turned out to be a pretty sucky feeling. He turned Ginny around again, so he was looking at Hermione dance with Charley, a flowing waltz that made him want to cry. And he almost did. But at the last minute, he remembered how he wasn't supposed to be unhappy. After losing Ron twice to unfortunate circumstances, sadness, and anger, during 2nd and 4th year, he wasn't willing to repeat the experience. Instead, he looked into Ginny's eyes and smiled. He no longer felt any shame in the lie all these silly smiles held.

When the dance was over, he sat down next to Ron at a table and sighed. He thought of mentioning the night before, but he didn't. Obviously Ron felt it had been a mistake, and if that was how Ron felt, then it probably had. Harry tried to express without words how sorry he was. But Ron said nothing that could lead Harry to believe he even REMEMBERED the night before. So everything went unspoken, and he was left to wait for tonight, when he knew he must say something, before he let dreams take him to those forbidden lands, those places he escaped to when faced with the impossibilities of his relationship with Ron. Nothing was going to change, and though he had always known that, he somehow felt now that it was even worse. He had made his move, and he had failed. He felt even more like crying now. He felt a lot more of a lot of things in fact.


	3. Chapter 3

When Ron went to sleep that night he was for once not worrying about what Harry was particularly thinking. He just wanted to sleep, Bill and Fleur were leaving tomorrow, and breakfast would be whole big deal, he was worried about how he was going to deal with Harry as well. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but for some reason Harry seemed different. He couldn't possibly know about the dream the night before, or any of the dreams for that matter, so why was he acting like he did, or at least like he knew something? Harry had actually seemed moody at the dinner that night, a mood which Harry rarely donned unless it came hand in hand with anger, but he didn't seem particularly angry, he was somewhat subdued, mixed with confusion. Making Ron confused as well.

In the middle of the night, Ron was still awake. He didn't want to be thinking about Harry, but he couldn't help it. All he could do, was wonder about what would happen when they left his house and started on their way to Harry's parent's graves. He didn't like the idea of being just with Harry and Hermione for so long, with no one else traveling with them, and no place to escape. He would have to look into Harry's eyes when they talked, have to travel with him all day, have to comfort him when the sorrow of his parents' deaths washed over him anew at their graves. He didn't know if he could stand it, if he could endure such things. But he knew that he would have to anyways.

Finally, Ron fell asleep, and Harry woke at the sound of his snores. Ron turned and they stopped, leaving Harry in silence with his thoughts. He stood up from his bed and walked over to Ron, his hands slightly trembling in all that he was feeling, confusion, nerves, sorrow, excitement, and tiredness, even love, maybe. He leaned over Ron, as he slept, and gently kissed his lips, he meant to kiss his forehead, but he couldn't bring himself to perform such a simple, friendly act, for friendship was something he felt he and Ron had left in the past long ago…


End file.
